


Annals of the White Guardian

by ZorialDiamond



Category: Runescape
Genre: Fun With Flying, Gen, Invention, Uncharted Isles, archaeology shenanigans, crystal singing hobbies, the Wushankos are pretty, throwing shade at self serving "piety", yet more Zorial loves shiny, zori likes shiny things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:48:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25287106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZorialDiamond/pseuds/ZorialDiamond
Summary: Little scraps and slices of life from the times of the Icyene Zorial Diamond.
Kudos: 5





	1. A Gem of a Relic

Zorial observed it, the deceptively beautiful gem sitting on the shelf of Draynor's so called Wise Old Man. The same clear tinge she knew so well in the enchanted gems it would later inspire, with a coil that seemed to be red with soaked in blood. It glowed ever so slightly, and she could feel its aura from a distance.

"...How did you even come upon this?" Hand perched on her chin, she had to resist every impulse to snatch up the shiny gem.

"I've adventured much over the years, White Guardian, and in that time you discover many things," the blue-hatted old man laughed, however debatably wise.

"...And you didn't think to turn this over to the Slayer Masters? This is a key part of our history?" Zorial held out her arms in an awkward shrug, her brow twisting up.

"I'm sure I'm not the only one keeping important relics of the past stored away, Zorial. You do the work, you get your due. It's as I've always said," Dionysus calmly argued, his hands twisting around the Saradomin staff currently being used as a walking stick. 

"You do realize Amascut is still at large and this could be a key clue to finding her, right?" The brows twisted down, and one hand clenched into a fist. "I may like my collection, but I still know that you do this to do good, not just to get paid!"

The man raised his hand from adjusting his glasses, seeming to argue back, before realizing just how foolish arguing with a literal Icyene would look to any pious observer.

"I suppose you are right. Your friend the Guildmaster has provided me with a number of perfectly restored pieces...I could be persuaded to part with this one." With some level of reluctance, he retrieved the gem and handed it to her. She could feel it, the pulse of power and an ever so slight hunger, reminiscent of its owner.

"Thank you for doing this out of the goodness of your heart," Zorial replied, her sarcasm easily masked with her surprisingly youthful, lilting voice.


	2. Grace of the Elves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zorial's tinkering with elven crystal in her inventions brings an unexpected kind of solace.

Ah yes, it was all coming together.  
  
The essence of treasure, in a rare black gem, compiled under the warm green light of concentrated divine energy and crackle of the Invention Guild's many contraptions. The orange fire, gleaming off the light of the marble-like crystalline Trahaern forge. The setting of the gold. Diamond and crystal accents on the amulet's head. A bit more sanding of crystal, for aesthetic. Finally, she draped it over her neck, and smiled. Her reflection in the twinkling cyan crystal crystal, a powerful trinket worthy of being named with elven grace.  
  
"It's done, it's done!~" She turned from side to side, clutching it in her hands and watching it catch the light. Some of the nearby workers stopped momentarily to nod and applaud; however, as the adrenaline of success started to fade, a heaviness set into her limbs, involuntarily slouching slightly with droopy wings and bags under her eyes. She'd been working on this so long she'd forgotten to rest. While it was unlikely she could manage balancing on one of the spires as was her practice, she did pull herself to a spot on one of the nearby higher ramparts, letting the voice of Seren she'd worked under soothe her ears.

And of course, as she often did, she sang along with a spare crystal seed in hand.  
  
Of course, the legends of her peoples' voices were all too true. There was some strain of course, but with the melody of divine light, it was easy to interpose an Icyenic harmony. Her soul was stilled, the fatigue and weariness melted away as she held the seed close to the necklace hanging on her bosom. It too glimmered like the glowing crystalline street lanterns, and while she had no intentions on a specific shape, it grew into the likeness of a small crystalline star. A star reminiscent of the old emblem of the many guilds of adventuring dotting Gielinor's lands.  
  
Then, suddenly, a loud, tinkling manifestation not too far from her. She jumped a bit in her seat, her wings instinctively spreading out to catch her. What met her gaze was something familiar as it was surprising; an orb, fragments of crystal, and a familiar diamond, orbiting itself like a small planetary system, trailing what would look like stardust.  
  
"A fragment of Seren?" she muttered, leaning forward. There were no words, but she felt compelled to reach out her hand to the entity. And as she did, one of the orbiting shards trailed its way to her hand, leaving a nigh perfectly formed raw diamond in her palm. The entity lingered for only moments longer before seeming to vanish in light with a tinkle as soon as it came.   
  
She held them together, the crystalline star and diamond. Her chosen path, and the gem of her name. Something about the odd specificity warmed her heart. She'd add these onto the chain of the new necklace later. Its own little mote of serenity in the turmoil of this the 6th age.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a cuter one and one inspired by hours of skilling. Diamonds are one of the most common rewards from Seren spirits, so I thought it'd be cute to make that into something a bit more personal for my diamond-named gal. Also, a little look into her tinkering as an inventor and some of the ways she relaxes. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


	3. Peace in the East

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zorial finds a bit of zen searching for a place to relax among the uncharted isles of the Wushankos.

Zorial didn't know what it was about the skies over the Wushanko Isles or the seas surrounding them, but there was a certain level of calm in the breezes that was both a luxury, and therapy, depending on what season of life the young Icyene found herself in. Of course, she'd scarcely remembered which, if any of the scattered uncharted islands she'd been to, sans the one that currently held the gold-trimmed cerulean flag.

Not that it really mattered, though. It was about the journey, not the destination. Otherwise she could have just chartered a ship and been done with it.

Survival wasn't too much of a concern. There were enough wild fruits and mushrooms on one of them to sustain enough of a flight from one island, to another, to another. Of course, occasionally some other rogue elements would be squatting there, be they human, jellyfish, undead, or even sometimes Crassian. Few, if any, were willing to make the first move of aggression. Even if they had no idea what an Icyene or a Slayer Master was, Zorial supposed she just gave off an aura that made them too wary to take a swipe.

Which was perfect for her needs, of course. Hand over her forehead, a peridot-green eyes on the horizon, today, or perhaps in the next couple days, she would find one. A perfect little cherry blossom grove to fall asleep in. Bonus points if there was a Moai in it, too.

There was a certain rhythm for how she looked for other islands while airborne. Flying up as far as her somewhat stunted wings would take her, with the help of a bit of arcane windy boost. Withdraw a spyglass and have a peek around. If there seemed to be a near enough island in sight, fly that way. If not, wherever the natural wind seemed strongest or where there was the least amount of cloud cover. A storm rolling in would force her to teleport away early, and that wouldn't be fun at all.

This time, there seemed to be some land to the northeast. So off that way she glided, the wind catching her feathers gleaming in the midday sun. She couldn't help but smile, beads of sunlight catching the waves below, and the rays across the horizon. A sight she suspected she would never grow tired of.

Some moving glints caught her eye. She dove a bit lower; they seemed to be fish, scales glinting like gemstones and precious metals. A gasp, as other brightly colored fish occasionally leapt out of the water, streaks of neon yellow, turquoise, and purple on winglike fins. Some even leapt high enough to scatter the seawater in her eyes.

She shook her head; moments later, she found herself in a mild panic, only a meter above the water now. She gripped some air runes from a pouch on her belt quickly with pinions outspread, and with a bit of a push, found herself gliding in the higher winds again.

Time seemed to melt away and become meaningless; only the procession of the sun and clouds across the sky marking the passing hours. The northeastern patch was quickly rested on and forgotten about; no distant sight of falling petals. Onward, onward, on a northwestern breeze, to the accompaniment of distant sea bird calls. The air got a bit more nippy, and the sun didn't hang too far above the horizon.

She was about to settle for a lesser isle close to day's end, when she spotted it. The rays of the fading sun illuminated a delightful sight of a small peak on a larger uncharted island. Following it down to its foot, she saw it, her coveted prize. A small grove of cherry blossoms in full bloom.

Another gasp, clapping and a twirl in the air. One last flourish, before landing, being well aware her back muscles would be aching something awful tomorrow morning. But...this view, the gentle floral scent on the wind, the palms, the birds, the tall grasses, accented by the glow of pinkish orange on the horizon...It was perfect.

She looked between the trees of the small natural groves, picked the one with the most shade, and sat underneath it. She leaned against the trunk, wings outspread on the grass in the midst of the falling blossoms, wiping sweat from her brow.

A contented sigh. A drifting off. And a reminder of the sort of things that she, as a World Guardian, wanted to save.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whee! This one was inspired by Uncharted Isles farming training, and my fondness for the Wushankos as a whole, between Runefest 2016 and it being one of the main backdrops for the D&D campaign I play in. A fun bit of drabble getting my main girl some love again. Hope you enjoyed it!

**Author's Note:**

> The truth is it's hard to focus on long bits of writing for a long period of time, so here's a fic of ficlets I may add to periodically!


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